The Snobs guide to Bali: Staying Toxic, Thank You

I’ll be buggered if any holiday from here on is going to be wasted on de-toxing!

When you’re as old as we are, there’s only a certain number of holidays left until you’re issued with that final, fateful boarding pass (and, of course, it’s a one-way trip). So, I’ll be buggered if any holiday from here on is going to be wasted on de-toxing!

I mean, what’s the point? Holidays are designed to experience everything the destination has to offer – the sights, sounds and particularly, food and drink. Take two of those pleasures away by staying at a de-tox ‘wellbeing’ resort and you’ve totally wasted the opportunity. I’m not going to throw away a perfectly good holiday by having to eat compost after an appetiser of lawn clippings, washed down with a fine drop of dandelion juice. Oh no; that’s no holiday.

Bali’s one of those destinations where you can really enjoy the local cuisine, and the food is just one of the many reasons we love the place. Every time Janetta and I have been there we’re never satisfied until we’ve had our fill of satays, gaddo gaddo and nasi goreng. And then of course, there’s the Bintang – the perfect accompaniment to any Indonesian dish. What’s a Bali holiday without at least a few Bintangs?

But when Travel Guides delivered us to Bali, there was a different agenda organised for us. It started off well with three nights in a pool villa at one of our favourite resorts - Ayana in Jimbaran. We were in heaven. But heaven quickly turned to hell when the next resort loomed on the horizon. I saw the sign on the outskirts of the resort as we drove along the winding road up in the hills of Ubud and read the ominous word...“Wellness”.

Oh God! I could feel the pain right there and then. All that Eat, Pray Love rubbish being foisted on me for the next three days – detoxing. What a filthy word. I only had to read the menu to know I was going to hate it. Apart from a diet of grass, tree bark, coconut water and some unimaginable fungus, we were also expected to meditate and bend like a Romanian gymnast in organised yoga sessions. I mean, I don’t even eat tofu, and I never will, And to make things even more intolerable, there was no alcohol. Not a drop! As I said – “This is the Freddie Kruger of holidays”.

But, as Bali is known as the land of the gods, we were saved. As we sat, trying desperately to digest our vegan creations and drinking some sort of green slime that tasted like Seasol, a light drift of ash started to descend on us courtesy of a very courteous erupting volcano some 15 kilometres away.

“Time to evacuate” came the call. (At first, I thought they were talking about colonic irrigation which wouldn’t have surprised me given the nature of the resort). But with a real imminent eruption threatening we, sadly, very sadly had to leave the ‘food’ on the table of the “wellness” resort and head for safer climes.

Yes, Bali is definitely the island of the gods and one of them was looking after us that day for sure…the god of re-toxification. Bless him or her.